Agony
by miss de Villers
Summary: After Nora dies, Eric goes on a rampage. One-shot, follows the events of episode 6x07. Rated M for violence.


**A/N: What can I say... Nora's death shocked me. It was beautifully written and played, and the way Alex showed Eric's emotions just broke my heart. I think it was one of the most intense True Blood scenes ever.**

**So, I had an idea to write this fic, and episode 8 and the promo to episode 9 helped me, though I made some changes in the storyline – Eric did not drink Adeline and Warlow's blood. I also do not know if what I write here is going to happen in episode 9, so it's rather AU.**

**Anyway, I hope you like it, and remember your reviews are more than welcomed. :)**

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The night was dark. Massive clouds were lying on the sky, covering the moon completely, preventing the light from sipping through them. Human eyes would have not seen anything but a black wall in the pitch darkness. Human eyes. But not vampire eyes.

To a vampire, everything was visible. The thick branches of trees and the leaves rustling. The wild animals running through the forest and the birds walking on air. The stones on the ground. The streaks of grass on the field. _Everything._

Yet still, Eric wasn't seeing them as he ran. His instincts were paying attention to everything around, preventing him from slamming into a nearby tree at vampire speed, but his mind was not even aware of it. He was too far gone to pay attention to anything around.

One thought was popping up in his head over and over again, no matter how hard he tried to bring it down.

_Nora was dead._

He felt as if his dead heart was shattering, though he knew it was impossible. Nora, his darling sister, was dead. The thought was eating him from the inside, clawing at him, reaching into every cell of his body. It was killing the connection they had for centuries, leaving behind only a deep, bleeding wound and a dull, eternal ache.

It wasn't the first time he felt this way. He remembered the feeling from a few years ago, when he had lost his maker. But only now did he understand something that never occurred to him. Yes, the pain from Godric's decease was great, and yes, he felt as though a part of him was missing. But. Godric's death was his wish. His own decision. And, in spite of not being able to understand it, Eric had accepted it. He was, somehow soothed by the fact that Godric was at peace.

Nora was not. Her life was taken away from her. The decision was made for her, when she wanted so much to live.

And this was killing him.

So he ran. He ran away from Bill's house, as far away from the one he chose to believe, and was mistaken. Away from the place that was reminding him of his sister's death. He ran into the night, away from his pain, away from everything. And for single moments it seemed to him that the ache was subsiding, that it would soon be over, only to feel a new sharp pang of pain hit him the next second. It was pure anguish.

_Agony._

After what seemed like forever, he stopped, reaching his destination. The vamp camp. He was hidden by the trees, observing the guards that were standing outside, guarding the facility. They held their guns in their hands, ready to shoot in case of an emergency. But it would not stop him from accomplishing his plan, because it was more than a simple plan. It was blood vengeance.

With a movement quicker than the human eye could follow, he was in front of one of the guards, ripping his head off. The others reacted immediately, aiming their guns at the vampire and firing, but Eric had already moved from his previous spot, managing to kill another guard, then another. The fear began to rise in the air, quickly followed by panic. The vampire was too quick, they had no change of tracing him, so they started shooting chaotically, hoping one of the bullets would somehow manage to hit him.

But what they didn't know was that they were dealing not only with a vampire, but with a one thousand years old Viking vampire, who was there for revenge. And he would not stop until he got it. One ripped head, or a hundred, it didn't matter. He had killed a lot of people during his human life, and a lot more during his undead life – innocent and not so innocent people. Men and women and children. Warriors and thieves. Whores and virgins. But killing the ones responsible for Nora's death brought back a feeling long since forgotten. It was the same as killing Russell Edgington – a liberating feeling of reaching your goal. Only this time it will not have to wait a thousand years.

He watched the result of his actions, filling with sadistic pleasure at what he saw. The large territory in front of the building was covered with running blood. Here and there were laying torn parts of the body – heads, arms and legs. It was like a sequence from a horror movie, almost too terrifying to be true.

Without hesitating, he sped towards the door. Realizing it wasn't locked, he opened it and entered it at human speed. He knew that here, inside the camp, he would have to pretend to be human. There were much more weapons beside their "new fucking guns", as Pam so eloquently called them. Weapons that even he could not fight against, now that there was no room for him to take off to the sky in case he got caught. And he could not get caught. He had a mission to fulfill. He would have to be careful. He needed to find his progenies, and his grandprogeny, but, until then, he had another thing to do.

Moving carefully, he climbed the steps, reaching the offices of the scientists. The hall was deserted, but he knew a human was in the cabinet at the end of it. He was hearing his heartbeat. Beneath him, restricted by metal bars, was the male gen-pop, the place where he was once held, too. He moved further, reaching the cabinet he needed, and, without any hesitation, opened the door wide, a smirk spreading on his face as he watched the fear well up in the doctor, reveling in it.

"Northman." – the man in white said after he turned to face him.

"Overlock." – the Viking answered, his smirk widening.

In less than a second he was in front of him, a hand on his mouth to prevent him from screaming. Eric saw as he pressed a button when he entered, and knew the guards could come any second now. He wanted to torture him. To keep him chained up for days, to make him scream. To kill him slowly. But he knew there was no time. So, without further ado, his hand penetrated his chest, gripping his heart and ripping it out.

There it was. The man who had induced the death of his sister. Finally dead.

Just then, a group of guards entered the office. He threw his heart on the floor and lifted his bloody hands up in the air, surrendering. His vengeance was over.

The guards secured his hands with silver handcuffs and took him out of the office, leading him down the halls somewhere.

The white circular room.

The room was opened, and he was led in, four or five guards following. All pairs of eyes shot to him as he entered, their gazes mostly familiar, though there were some vampires he didn't know. His whole family was there. Pam. Tara. Willa. Bill's child Jessica. Steve Newlin. And two others he didn't know. They were all going to die in this room if they didn't find a way out.

One of the guards stepped forward while the others aimed their guns at the vampire, making sure he won't try to do something stupid as they took the handcuffs away. Eric watched as the man used his key to unlock the silver cuffs, and felt his wrists heal immediately. The guards moved towards the exit, but at the last moment one of them turned back, a smug grin on his face.

"Northman." – he called, waiting until Eric turned his head to look at him. – "How's your sister doing?" – his tone was mocking and taunting, the grin on his face widening with anticipation at the vampire's pain.

Eric felt anger well up inside him, so quick he had no chance (and no intention) of calming it. Stepping forward at vampire speed, he ripped the guard's head off, snarling. The other ones aimed the guns as quickly as they could, firing. Two bullets hit his body, digging themselves into his flesh before he could react. He growled at the pain, but did not fall to the ground as other vampires did. Instead, he attacked another guard, snapping his neck. More bullets followed, some of them hitting him, some not, but the whole time he just snarled and growled and laughed in triumph, killing and killing and killing. More guards came to help, but he was what he was. Truly invincible.

After a few minutes the guards seemed to give up, and simply closed the door behind them. They could not move him from this room without the order of some doctor, or the governor, even if they knew they should, after what he did.

"Cowards!" – he screamed at the closed door, his heart almost beating again in triumph. But, as the excitements of the fight died out, he was starting to feel the pain, so easily endured just moments before. He took of his jacket and sat on the floor, his back pressed against the wall, aware that everyone in the room was watching him. Jessica, Tara, Steve, and the ones who he didn't know, were looking at him from the corner of their eye, afraid he would notice their interest. Willa was casting hesitant glances towards him, as if unsure of how to act. Pam was staring openly.

Standing at the opposite end of the room, his first progeny looked at him with clear emotions. Fear. Shock. Complete terror. The moment she saw him, she recognized the look in his eyes. He had the same look after he'd come home from Dallas. Knowing Nora had Hepatitis V, she was able to put two and two together, understanding the reason of his actions.

Yet… he wasn't like that even after Godric's death. She knew he was able of extreme cruelty if pushed, and she had watched him torture and kill people, in ways that most would find more that extremely cruel. But the way he acted earlier… he was so far gone he didn't even feel the pain from the UV bullets. In that moment, he had lost complete control over himself, and she was sure he would have killed anyone who dared approach him, without any second thought. She had never ever seen him like that, and it terrified her.

Eric examined his wounds. Two bullets were placed deep into his abdomen, another one in his biceps, and one in his hip. The stinging pain they caused was only increasing and he knew he had to get them out before they burned him from the inside. He looked around, noticing the leather gloves one of the guards had worn. He took the severed arm from the floor, and took the glove out, placing it on his hand instead. It was a little small, but it will do.

Carefully, he touched his fingers to his abdomen wound, tensing a little when the pain intensified. He let the fingers dig up into his flesh, gripping the bullet, as he clenched his jaw to refrain from screaming as the pain tore through him a lot sharper than before. He finally managed to get it out, and let it drop to the floor as he watched his blood pour from the wound. He wouldn't begin to heal until all of them were out.

Clenching his jaw again, he repeated the action with the second bullet. When the third was out, he began to tremble, not sure he would make it conscious through the forth extraction.

Pam was still staring right at him, her eyes even wider than before, as he took the bullets out himself. She, too, was shot with those guns, and she remembered the horrible pain the bullets caused. It was two-in-one – silver and UV. And when the doctors took it out… She knew it was more than painful. It was unbearable. Yet, he was enduring it without a single sound.

Another bullet hit the floor with a sharp sound, all four of them out now, and Eric felt the pain disappear, and his body begin to heal. He remained in the same position, not caring that everyone was still looking at him, an expression of horror on their faces.

Pam took a deep breath as he saw Eric's wounds begin to heal. She felt Willa take a step towards him, and gripped her forearm with her hand to stop her. The girl looked at her elder sister questionably. Pam understood Willa's desire to go to him. Her blood was driving her to comfort her maker, and Pam wanted to do the same thing. But, one of the many things she learned while being with Eric for the century they spent together, was not to disturb him when he was angry. And now he was more than angry.

"But…" – Willa tried to argue, looking at Pam for an explanation, but her words died out as soon as she saw the message Pam was willing to tell. For Willa's sake, she better not approach him now. So she just nodded, accepting the fact that Pam knew better than her how to act in this situation.

In the other end of the room, Eric was lost in his thoughts. 'I did it, sister. I killed them all. I avenged of your death. I knew you found peace. I know you are happy just where you are. I know you are happy to see Godric again. I know you died happy. Just… Forgive me for everything. Forgive me that I did not protect you enough. And know that I always was proud of you. Know that I loved you. I still love you… and I always will."


End file.
